


No One Left to Blame

by Eluvian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor wants the family to be together, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank is getting better, Happy Ending, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvian/pseuds/Eluvian
Summary: Connor has changed Hank's life a lot. For the better. But one thing was still missing. Hank used to have a family and even though Connor is like family to him, the picture is still not complete.After the android revolution, Connor is contacted by Theresa Beacham, who used to be Theresa Anderson for a while. She just wants to know Hank is alright, but Connor believes that the two people should meet.
Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson's Wife, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Connor & Sumo, Hank Anderson/Hank Anderson's Wife
Kudos: 9





	1. A Day Out and Some Surprising News

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is probably unnecessary, but... Minimal cursing because Hank curses. I don't like cursing. /disclaimer (:

Hank Anderson’s life had taken a very interesting turn. A very interesting one, but also the best one that has happened to him in a long time. A few months ago, he'd hated these machines, hated their existence, their looks, their voices, the fact that they were present, they invaded his life and were a constant reminder of everything that was fucked up with humanity. He was blinded by his own grief, until… until one certain detective android came along and he wouldn’t leave his side. Which was very annoying, at first. But now? He would hardly admit it to himself but Connor had become quite like a good friend for him.

Hank did not know what exactly guided him when he hugged Connor, pulling him close to himself in the snow standing in front of the Chicken Feed. By and by he went back to that day in his memories.

_It’s cold. And abandoned. And winter. Two things Hank hates and one that he doesn’t. He hates winter and cold, but being alone is just pleasant, most of the time. But now… it means that despite the androids won, something happened to Connor. Of course it did. He was in the middle of it all. How could anyone hope he would not get hurt?_

_Damn it…_

_How long will he stand here and philosophize? Should just go into Jimmy’s bar and have a drink._

_And start all over again? Connor would say it’s not healthy to-_

_God damn it._

_Hank wants him to be alive._

_Alive… the word still sounds strange and alien, but also natural._

_Even this damned place shut down. Of course. That bastard who ran it probably got caught by… some other kind of police force than the Detroit Police Department. Or he was just scared of all the heated events during the revolution and took off. A shame. That hamburger was probably the least healthy thing on Earth, but it tasted mighty fine for him and it was cheap._

_When did I turn into this? – Hank wonders. Finding the cheapest junk food, drinking until he does not even remember the taste of anything, until he does not even remember… well… anything._

_Eh, this grim mood won’t help anything – he gathers and tries to force himself to go home and – who knows? But then-_

_Steady steps in the virgin snow. Hank’s a cop. He knows what it sounds like when someone is going exactly in his direction… Though he surely knows now is not the time to be alert and afraid._

_He knows these steps._

_He turns his head then body to the left. It is him. Standing straight, walking towards him so proudly, Hank could swear that even his movements changed since he became deviant._

_Connor’s face is curious, waiting, and somehow warm. The thought that he wanted to see Hank and the thought that he is alive and well makes Hank smile. He finds himself letting go of his worries and giving in to the hardly gained happiness and affection he feels towards Connor. His previous self would probably think he is crazy but, well, that self wasn’t aware of a lot of things. There is no denying how relieved he is to see the boy now._

_And Connor smiles back. Asymmetrical, how the hell did they make them so humanlike? But his lips do curl up on the side. Hank has never seen him smile like this before. Like he’s… at home._

_Connor stops about 1 and a half metres away from him. For a few seconds, they stare at each other, wordlessly expressing their gratitude that the other one is okay. Then Hank lets himself do what he wants. He reaches out with his arms and pulls the young man closer firmly, but softly. Connor kind of falls into the embrace, Hank can tell he is a bit surprised, but then he also raises his hands and hugs back. Something pulls onto Hank’s heart so strong, and he is not sure what it is._

_‘You’re lucky you are okay. I would have killed you if you weren’t.’ Hank mumbles, smiling, something hot and wet forming in the corner of his eyes._

He sighed. He was getting so emotional in his old days.

He was on his way to a restaurant. Not a bar. Not even a prestigious bar. A freaking restaurant. He let this boy convince him of crazy things.

_‘Lieutenant. Now you have the monetary sources for a facility that provides better nutrition and drinks. Would you not like to try one out?’_

Yeah. Sure.

He'd washed his hair, combed his hair, wore his less colourful and less patterned suit for the occasion than usually. He knew he would not feel like himself at that place. All those snobs. All those stares they must get when they get there… But fuck it. What harm could it do? Truth be told, he was indeed curious what going out would feel like. Hadn’t done that in some time, and if Connor wanted to be kind to him, why resist?

Damn, Connor was making him soft. Hank was grateful for that. He had yet to find the way to express it, but he was.

Golden Seagull. That was the name of the restaurant, printed in huge and curved letters. Flowers everywhere, pink, red and white flowers in pots, cacti, and all kinds of other stuff that might distract you from eating. They did not really smell, at least. How could one eat a steak sandwich in peace when the whole place smelled like a flower shop?

But it was just bitterness speaking from him. Something that has dug itself deep into his heart a few years ago. Actually, he had to admit the place was quite nice. Well-dressed men and women served the drinks and food on plates that looked far fancier than needed, but looked nice. The music was… soft, but alright. At least not the disgusting whining about broken heart that could be heard in every plaza nowadays. It even had some jazz in it, sometimes. It was bearable.

‘Okay… now I don’t want to go inside, so _this_ table right here will be perfect’, Hank decided, finding a secluded spot on the terrace, in its corner. A bunch of flowers were right behind him, but he could not really smell them, so it was okay.

‘Okay. Would you like me to order something for you, Hank?’

‘Oh yeah, sure, hell no. I will order my food for myself, thank you.’

Come to a restaurant like this and let Connor spend money on him? Out of the question.

‘Alright. In that case, I will wait here.’

‘Thanks.’

Embarrassed, Hank straightened himself and tried to look like he did not feel completely alien to the place. He walked inside, managed to choose a substantially sounding meaty dish from the menu, as well as some lemonade (at least it wasn’t beer, Connor would disapprove if he ordered beer again), then he paid in advance and walked back to their table looking as proud as a student who just won some kind of championship.

He descended into his seat with a satisfied growl.

And remembered the fact that it would only be him eating. It was still awkward to have Connor watch him while he was eating.

‘Okay. So we came here to talk, right?’ Hank said, aiming at being casual, but for some reason Connor looked... surprised. And… ashamed?

‘I… hope this occasion is not very uncomfortable for you.’

‘Eh… no, actually I kind of like the place. I ain’t sure if the place likes me too, but’ he shrugged. Not so many people were staring at him so far. They probably didn’t really know him at this part of Detroit.

‘I know that talking about your personal life might be painful, but I also know it can be therapeutic. Would you like to talk about your family, Hank?’

‘What… now? You brought me to a restaurant to talk about my… life tragedies?’

‘No. That was not my intention.’

_Hell, where is this going?_

Hank eyed Connor suspiciously.

‘Then? What was?’

Why was it so difficult to get something out of him?

‘If that is alright with you, I would like if you could tell me about your wife.’

Hank raised his eyebrows.

‘For a detective android, you sure are straightforward with your questions.’

Connor started explaining, as he always did.

‘Right now I do not function as a detective android. I function as a person who attempts to help you.’

Damn. This hit right where it shouldn’t have. That strong, but warm grip on his heart. _Softness._

‘Aaalright, and that is very kind of you. But trust me. I’m an old boy. I got over that stuff’, he nodded, reassuring himself in the meantime. Because… did he? There was barely a day when something _didn’t_ remind him of Theresa.

‘”Getting over stuff” might not be the best solution to the problem, Lieutenant.’

‘Okay, one: why the hell do you call me that? Two: why do you always want to give me advice on how to life my life? You are kind, and you want to help, okay, but there are some things that are better left alone, you now.’

Would he really have to teach this android how to behave?

This task kind of felt… good. It was a concrete task and it was good to be able to guide people again. Maybe that was what Connor was trying to do as well? Guide him? A pity Hank was too stubborn to accept that easily…

‘The answer to your first question is that I have called you Lieutenant in the past. It is your title, and… I think I have gotten used to this term. But if it bothers you, I will not call you that in the future.’

Hank stared at him from behind half-descended eyelids.

‘The answer to my _second question_ interests me much more.’

Connor remained silent for a few seconds.

‘I have received calls from her in the past few days’, he admitted.

‘What?!’


	2. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank remembers her first day with Theresa. He is a mess, but Connor helps him. He plans to visit her.

‘Theresa Beacham, formerly Theresa Anderson has called me three times since the revolution.’  
‘Called… you? For gods’ sake…’ Hank’s fingers touched his forehead. Suddenly he felt a headache approaching. Theresa called Connor? Why not him?

‘Yes. She claimed she established contact with me because she was not yet ready to speak with you.’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’

Connor ignored Hank’s continuous cursing and continued.

‘She was worried about you, Lieute- Hank. She said she watched the news and thus she was familiar with what role you and I played in the events. She wanted to make sure you were alright.’

Hank did not know what to say. His calm waters had just been disturbed more than what he was prepared for.

‘She asked me not to tell you this, so now I am disobeying her. But I do this because I felt like you should know.’

‘What did she say? She wanted you to keep an eye on me and tell her every weak what I did?’ Hank asked, incredulous.

‘No! She did not wish to use me as a means of surveillance. She specifically asked me to… “take care of you”.’

Hank took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

‘When did she first call you? What did she say?’

‘On November 13. She thanked me, and asked me if you were injured. I told her that you weren’t. She seemed insecure, and hung up a few seconds later. Then I couldn’t call her back. Two days later she contacted me again and asked for a more detailed description of the events, especially your part in it.’

‘Damned woman’, Hank mumbled silently.

‘Finally, she called me yesterday.’

‘And?’

‘At one point she admitted she misses you. She asked me to hint at the fact that she might be sorry for refusing to accept your attempts at contacting her.’

‘What the hell… Hint at it?’

‘Her intention was that I convert this information into unclear messages and direct them to you in small amounts. But I… changed my objective a little.’

‘And it’s great that you did.’ Hank’s heart was racing. He needed to see her. Now. He was angry, frustrated, yet somehow… hopeful. Even if Theresa did this all in secret, which was outrageous, if what Connor said was true, then the thoughts did appear in her mind. She did think of him. Was worried about him.

It felt better than it should have.

Connor seemed relieved.

‘I am glad. Your reactions did not seem like it.’

‘Well, Connor, you know, if your ex-wife secretly calls your android without you knowing, still refuses to talk to you in person after avoiding you for years, you might just get a little bit anxious. Oh, no, you wouldn’t know. I hope you never find out what that feels like.’ Hank added grimly. Connor having a wife? It was an odd concept, but not something he couldn’t have imagined by now.

‘I understand, Hank. I told you this because I thought this was the best way. I had hoped she will forgive me.’

‘No, no, no, you did the right thing, I… hell. I’m sorry you got caught up in all this. I… uh-‘

‘Your food is ready’, Connor announced, as he saw inside the building and detected a boy in his twenties carrying Hank’s plate. Hank shook his head, mentally, getting back to reality and as politely as he could, he thanked the meal.

‘I, uh… kind of lost my appetite, I think’, he told Connor when they were alone again.

‘I apologize.’

‘Don’t. It’s not your fault’, Hank said darkly. ‘It’s mine…’

‘Does it matter whose fault it is now? I am sure she would be happy to talk to you. Even if she does not admit it.’

‘You sure have learnt a lot about human behaviour, Connor.’

And that smile appeared again on his face. That embarrassed but proud, happy smile.

‘I am trying.’

‘Okay… this food won’t eat itself, neither will you eat it. So…’ He took a deep breath, as if eating this wondrously looking and smelling meal was some difficult task, then began to make it disappear. Just focus on the present. Deal with personal problems later.

But that’s what he had done all this time. Postpone dealing with his personal problems. Postpone and drown them in drinks.

But now he was drinking… _lemonade,_ which he hadn’t drunk since he was like sixteen. So maybe there was hope.

After a few minutes of silence, Connor asked:

‘Do you plan to visit your wife?’

‘I, uh… should talk to her, yes. That would be best I think. And unavoidable. Why?’

‘I just… hope it turns out well.’

Hank raised an eyebrow. He had no idea how that could happen. So many harsh words they have thrown at each other. Softer words, vulgar words, words they meant and words they didn’t. Just out of pain. They tore each other apart because both of them lost something that was equally important to them.

As a result, they lost each other too.

But the worst part in these last months was being avoided. Hank drowned in the same of trying to talk to Theresa. It always took him hours to convince himself to do it. And then what was the result?

Nothing. His attempts fell back like a ball from the wall. Boing. Bump. No answer. Theresa just shut him out.

So he was angry at her again. Filthy words appeared in his mind and he put them onto her image like stickers. He wanted to hate her, to make it easier for him that she wasn’t here. He wanted to make her something bad, to put the blame on her. To make himself not want her back so much.

There was no use.

He knew now that the only solution was to face her. Calmly, this time. No drinking. No shouting. No throwing things at the wall or window or anything.

Could he do that?

‘Hank?’

‘…yeah?’

‘You seem preoccupied.’

‘I often am. You haven’t noticed?’

‘I have. Tell me if I am bothering you.’

Hank sighed.

‘I’m just… thinking about what happened. What I did wrong. What I coulda done better.’

Connor nodded and let Hank eat again.

The meat and the salad – yeah, he even bought salad, such a healthy meal (reminded him of when Cole told him hamburgers were unhealthy and he bought some kind of vegetables instead) – disappeared after a while, and they both headed back to the car with mixed thoughts. Hank wondered how he should do this right. Connor wondered whether he’d made the right choice.

‘Tomorrow I’m gonna talk to Fowler and tell him I need a day off.’

‘I wish you good luck, Lieutenant.’

Hank stared at him from the corner of his eye.

‘You said it did not bother you’, Connor pointed out. Hank smirked.

‘You deviant.’

Connor smiled. That he was, surely.

‘And? What are you gonna do now?’

‘I am going back to Jericho. Markus and I are setting up a memorial for those who deceased during the revolution. After that, we plan to make a museum there.’

‘Wow… good luck.’ They really made a life on their own, didn’t they?

‘Thank you.’

‘Oh, and Connor…’

‘Yes?’

‘Uhm… while I am away… could I ask you to uhh… take care of Sumo? His food is right next to the door, to the right, he can kind of sleep wherever he wants to, if he bothers you, just raise your voice a little, otherwise he likes to be rubbed behind his ear and petted basically anywhere.’

The android smiled again. ‘Of course. I would be glad to.’

‘Only if you got time. He can survive if I refill his water and food, I guess.’

‘I have got the time, Hank.’

‘Good. Appreciated. He uh… does not like to be left alone.’

***

The next day, Hank planned his trip to Toronto. Theresa lived there. In the suburbs. Hank knew the exact address because he was a cop, he had resource to all kinds of information. And no, of course it was not creepy and pathetic at all to keep track of one’s ex-wife’s locations... But he did not look into her life that much. He just wanted to know where she was.

_Okay, so. Money, check. Sumo’s gonna be alright. Fowler allowed me to have even one more day off. Not like I would need it. It will just be a few hours, maybe less if she tells me to turn around and leave her house this instant. Okay, that might be too much. She wouldn’t do that now, would she?... Still can’t believe she called Connor. …Could she… at any chance… forgive me?_

Doubts and worries chased each other in his mind as he packed his things. He did not bother _not_ to dress like a hippie, so the striped shirt and brown suit were his first choice. Then a crazy thought appeared. Maybe Connor, as an android, could decide better what would look good on him…

Luckily he wasn’t here. No need to embarrass himself even more.

At that point, the doorbell rang.

_What. You’re kidding…’_

It was him. It was Connor.

Hank tried to hold back his hysterical laughter.

‘Okay, okay, I’m coming. Don’t break the windows this time!’

He looked for the keys. Damn, where were they?... Then he found them next to one of his shoes. He was living in such a mess… Theresa would disapprove.

‘I was not planning on it, Hank.’

Was there reprimand in Connor’s voice?

Hank opened the door. Connor quickly scanned him.

‘This outfit is a bad idea, right?’ Hank blurted out, without knowing why the android was here. He immediately regretted it, but there was no going back. ‘Aanyway, what can I do for you?’ he tried to divert the conversation.

‘I just came to check in on you and wish you good luck.’

‘Thank you, but you have done that yesterday.’

‘I am well aware of that. But as far as I know, human psyche reacts positively if encouraging actions are repeated.’

_Oh hell._

‘And I do not believe this outfit is a bad idea. However, I would need information on Ms. Beacham’s taste to be able to know what she would find attractive.’

_Did you just say…_

‘I, uh… nevermind. Forget I asked anything.’

‘Why?’

‘Just… forget it.’

‘You do want to make a good impression on her, don’t you?’

‘I guess I do. But what do clothes matter? I am going there to talk, not to show off.’

‘Clothing is also a matter of conveying messages.’

‘Thank you, I learned that in school. Uhh…’ Hank covered his face. He was so lost. So pathetic. ‘Anyway, come in.’

Connor entered the house, and Sumo greeted him with a happy woof, tails wagging. The android immediately pet his head, smiling.

‘I never thought you’d see me like this’, Hank laughed miserably.

‘You have no reason to be ashamed.’

‘Like hell I don’t.’

‘You wish to appear attractive in front of someone who is important to you.’

‘You don’t need to remind me.’

‘Right. Do you wish to hear my opinion or not?’ Connor asked.

‘Shoot.’

‘As I said, I would need information about what she likes. I’d also need to know what kind of clothes you have available.’

‘Take a look at my wardrobe if you want. Just don’t be surprised by whatever you find there. It’s been a while since I cleaned.’

Theresa would disapprove, again.

‘And about what she likes, uh… I mean… Okay, I need a drink.’ he shook his head. It was far to embarrassing to talk about this without alcohol right now.

‘I am certain that will not improve your memory, Lieutenant’, Connor pointed out.

‘Shut… your mouth, would you?’ Hank headed towards the kitchen.

‘I would rather not.’

Hank stopped. He had no idea why he was surprised. Connor refused to listen to him even when he _wasn’t_ a deviant.

‘With all due respect’, Connor added and Hank couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Okay, fine! You win. Hell, I’m sorry, this is just… I was not ready for all this. She had been avoiding me for years.’

‘I understand, Hank. You have no need to be scared. You making the decision to visit her is already a huge step.’

Those brown eyes looked at him with such encouragement. Like it was as important for Connor as it was for him.

‘…I guess.’ Hank sighed. ‘Okay.’

‘So. First: what kind of clothing are you comfortable in?’ Connor asked.

‘I thought we wanted to know what looks good on me.’

‘The two don’t have to exclude each other, Hank.’

‘You know what I usually wear. And you know what others wear. Suffice it to say, my taste is not exactly the same as what counts as… fashionable.’

‘Did Theresa have a problem with that?’

‘Oh no…’ Hank smiled, remembering some days decades earlier. ‘Not at all. She loved my outfits, I think. She liked that I was different from what most others wore. And did.’

And the memories were coming back. Freed from their shackles that had been put on them so long ago, they slowly, but surely drifted back onto the surface of his mind.

_Hank hates this place. Hank does not belong to this place. Everyone in fashionable suits, polite words, minds cut and shaped to have the same form, the boys telling the same lame old jokes to the ladies, boring pick-up lines, and those chicks just smile and giggle like these blokes are the best things that could happen to them._

_He hates it._

_And he hates that SHE is in here too._

_Theresa Beacham. The name seems old-fashioned for a girl like her. Hair painted black, who knows which one was the natural colour, but it does not matter. Her hair looks like ink, its length varies at different places, it looks torn and messy, it makes him want to run his fingers through it and make it even more messy._

_She does not belong here either._

_She does not dance with the other blokes though. She drinks, but not much. He bets she can drink much more than an average male without getting drunk. She is wild, but also soft, innocent. Her hair is painted but she has no makeup. Her bright blue eyes shine out of her fair skin, from under the straight, bluish-black locks of her hair. They fly about as her head moves to the rhythm of the music._

_For someone who makes music himself, this kind of pop sounds like trash. But it does what it needs to do. Creates a rhythm. Awakes primitive desires. You can dance to it. Well… you can throw your arms and legs around to it._

_That’s what she does. He is sure Theresa’s moves are better than this, and if she just had the right music, she could be subtle._

_He should stop staring at her. But it’s always easier said than done._

_He is just a guy with long hair in a Hawaii shirt. Why would she come to talk to him anyway?_

_A few minutes later, it happens. He does not believe his eyes. Another bloke, short hair, full of muscles, makes a move on Theresa. Just approaches her, they start dancing against each other, Theresa’s just… light and easy, she smiles, but she does not sink into the flirty mood the guy wants. He reaches out for her hair, but she cuts him off with an easy motion, turning around. It looks as if she just continued dancing but Hank knows what it was._

_And the guy knows too. It was refusal. He doesn’t like it. Hank sees his mouth move, he is still smiling, but he cannot mask his frustration. He must say something like “Come on, girl, what’s your problem?”_

_Hank decides to get into the crowd. He shakes his head, throws his hair back, alone, probably making a fool out of himself, but… No. Nobody notices him in this crowd. But slowly, he gets closer to Theresa and the guy. If that bastard tries something, he wants to be close._

_And the guy does try. But Theresa catches the red Hawaii shirt with her eyes, and quickly darts out of the hands of the horny bastard. She grabs Hank’s hand and some kind of party moves ensue between them._

_Hank is shocked. The girl grins at her. All he can do is get lost in her eyes, admire her hair, and her black T-shirt covered in a symbol of a band he does not know of, and her tight black trousers, when she turns around, he cannot NOT look, he feels ashamed, but also relieved, proud, and happy, so happy._

_When the music ends, she steps closer to him._

_‘Sorry for that. I just had enough of that guy. I will stop abusing you now.’_

_Her voice is cute too. Purring like a cat, vibrant, soft._

_‘Oh, no, no problem. I was ready to teach him a lesson anyway.’_

_Theresa looks up at him, alert. The next music starts, she automatically starts to move. Short, easy motions, so that they can talk while they appear to be dancing._

_‘Please don’t. Don’t make a scene. He’s not worth it. No one is.’_

_So much worry in her voice._

_‘I hate when guys fight’, she says with sadness, contempt, looking away from him._

_‘Don’t worry. I won’t hurt him.’ He remained silent for a while. How many bad experiences could she have?_

_They danced through many more songs. They did not enjoy them, but each other’s company._

_‘So, what do you do?’_

_‘I’m a police officer.’_

_‘Wow.’_

_‘Did not expect that from a guy in a Hawaii shirt, did you?’ he grinned._

_‘Not really. I am studying to be a nurse. Bet you didn’t expect that either.’_

_A nurse. Someone who protects and cares for others. That’s why she is so different._

_They go on to talk about hobbies. He plays the guitar. She is singing in a band. They joke about having a band together._

_‘Do you have your guitar around now?’ Theresa raises her eyebrows with interest. Her eyes appear even bigger._

_‘Well, I don’t, I couldn’t have used it here anyway’, he shrugs._

_‘Hmm.’ She looks disappointed._

_‘I can show you tomorrow. Or I mean, next time.’_

_‘Hmm. There is a park nearby…’_

_‘Wait, I don’t live far. I can show you now.’_

_Was he too enthusiastic? Maybe. But he doesn’t care._

_‘You going home to fetch your guitar?’_

_Yes, it would be too early to ask her to escort him home. It would give a wrong message and he doesn’t want that._

_‘I can do that. You won’t disappear until then, will you?’_

_Theresa shakes her head, black locks flying around, one of them even hitting his face. He doesn’t mind._

_‘Good.’ He smiles and goes home to get a guitar. Much better than staying at this boring party._

_He ran so fast. He got his guitar and ran back, it took more than half an hour, but it was worth it. They snuck out into the park and he played her some melodies he knew. Silently, so that they don’t get busted. Would be a shame for a young police officer._

_It felt like some wonder. Leaving that party and going to a complete other world. It was so stereotypical yet he enjoyed it so much. Her eyes lingering on his face, following his fingers as he played._

_They repeated it many times. Later, when he could cut some time off work and she from studies, they’d find songs both of them knew and he played and she sang. Later, they did these in each other’s homes. She was wild. She was caring, protective and adorable, yet wild and adventurous, and he loved her. They even had some concerts together. Their careers advanced, they had money, and eventually decided that they do not want to get separated ever. Their wedding was small, but sweet. And later, crazy, as both of them were musicians._

_It was so perfect._

Hank realised he was being silent again.

In the meantime, Connor was examining his clothes in the wardrobe. He pulled out a red Hawaii shirt.

Hank went pale for a second. ‘That… was what I was wearing when… we first talked.’

‘Oh’, Connor raised his eyebrows, surprised, but also proud. ‘In that case it is an even better option.’

‘Hold up, I… Why do you think I would even fit in that one? I was twenty-three back then! Now look at me.’

‘This shirt seems to be quite casual so that even a man with your current size could fit intot it’, Connor said with an angelic smile.

‘Ohh God… I don’t want to give such a message.’

‘What kind of message?’

‘I just want to talk to her. Hell, I might even be angry. Why should I wear something that reminds her of… all those years back then?’

‘She loved the person you were then. She probably loved the life you had then. If you are wearing this, it might mean that you want the same again.’

Hank was so surprised. And also a bit angry. What did this boy think?!

On the other hand… if he thought for a while, Connor was right. It was the hardest thing to face it. But he did want that back. He just… lost hope that it would be possible. Long ago.

A confident, small smile started to spread on Connor’s lips. He must have realised Hank gave up fighting him. That alone made Hank want to object. But there were things more important than that.

‘Ehh… you… might be right. Thank you. I, uh… should get going.’

‘At what time did you tell her you would meet?’ Connor asked.

Oh. Hell.

He hadn’t even called her.

‘…oh.’ Connor said after a while as he realised.


	3. Crack in the Wall

Theresa collapsed onto the bed, exhausted after a long day of work. It felt satisfying, every day, to be able to help somebody. Yet she was alone. Except for two cats and two guinea pigs. They gave her a lot of work even when she was at home. But she needed them. They were something small and fragile she could take care of. But they did not talk. They did not argue. And they were a distraction. Also, they made her feel like she was a competent person to rely on.

She’d gone through her daily routine to feed and clean them. Now one of the cats, Starlight, a grey-white tabby jumped next to her on her bed. She hugged her and wondered how much of an idiot she was.

But she just could not wait any longer. If it was something stupid to do, better do it now. Her guilt was slowly but surely killing her. All those times Hank called her, she just put up a wall because… she was scared. That looking at him might make her think Hank was responsible. That is was his fault their son was not here with them now. She did not want to think that, yet she did. They’d argued about it. Horribly. She only wanted an image of Hank that was in the past, sweet and nice, and now non-existent.

But now… she needed to know he was alright.

After a few minutes of siesta, the phone rang.

She almost jumped out of the bed right away. Her whole body shook, and her grip on Starlight’s body became so firm that the poor cat climbed out of her grip with a complaining whine.

‘Oh, sorry, dear’, she mumbled, getting up and to her phone quickly.

She just picked it up, didn’t even bother to look at the number. At this hour, if she had a call, it must have been some serious issue at work, or anything. There was no time to waste.

‘Hi, Tessa.’

It was Hank.

She froze. Then her heart started racing.

What was the use of telling that android not to tell him?! Ah…

‘Hank…’ she answered. The wall was still there. She felt it. She put it there. She wanted to be antagonistic, yet she was ashamed because of the secret… Well, now it was not a secret.

‘I, uh… you must have figured that… I found out…’

‘I am sorry’, she admitted. Her hands were shaking.

‘Sorry?’ A surprised sound at the other end of the line.

‘For not telling you. For not… answering you.’

A longer silence followed.

Why were these words so easy to say out loud now? What has been going on in the past years?

The wall certainly had a crack in it now.

‘I… I’m just hella glad you did now.’

She chuckled. It felt as if a light flickered in front of her eyes.

They were talking. On the phone. With Hank. Nothing seemed easier. Yet it has been… for so long.

‘Tessa, I… wanted to talk to you.’

‘I’m listening’, she answered, with hope and fear. She was not ready for this now… She was exhausted and somewhat grumpy, but all these didn’t matter.

‘No, I mean… in person.’

Why was she even surprised? Hank had a habit of doing things on a whim.

‘What? Do you mean you are standing in front of my house right now?’

‘No’, Hank replied in a surprised tone. She had to admit, she might have went a little bit too far. But that wouldn’t be unlike Hank. ‘I was just getting ready to leave.’

‘Hank, be honest with me. If you are angry at me, I understand. Say it now. I am ready.’

‘Tessa, I… why didn’t you call me?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I want to hear it from you, not what I think.’

She sighed. That damned stubbornness.

‘I felt guilty. That is the truth, Hank. Selfish and simple.’

‘Well, I am glad you did.’

She tried to calm her heart. She did not know she could get so anxious after all that time. Could they be able to have a conversation without stepping onto each other’s hearts now? When they were in the same room?

She was so tired.

But how could she sleep like this?

‘Listen… I… had a night shift.’

‘Oh… why didn’t I think of that’, Hank said grimly.

‘No, no, it’s okay. Can you… can you come see me tomorrow? I’ll ask for a day off.’

‘Yeah. Of course. And… when?’

Hearing him so… careful, even scared, shy… Hank has changed so much.

She was ready to see how.

But she had to sleep. Otherwise her grumpiness would ruin everything. She could not allow that. Her own excitement turned against her.

‘Ah, let’s say… 9 o’clock?’

She would have to have a shower. Or maybe do that now? And feed the animals. And do her hair. And, of course, most of all, sleep. That time should be enough for all these.

‘Alright. I will be there.’

‘…thank you’, she said warmly.

‘Goodnight, Theresa. I mean morning. Whatever.’

She laughed. ‘Yeah, my morning is my night now. Getting a few hours of sleep.’ Here she was, babbling again.

‘Goodbye, Hank.’

Familiar. Old. New. Odd.

She sighed, spreading out on her bed again. Starlight entered the room. She called her closer and when the cat jumped up onto the bed, hugged her tight, brushing the animal’s soft fur against her face.

She glanced at the top of one of the cupboards in the room. There was a box, which she always avoided. There wasn’t enough space to put junk that didn’t matter anymore… There was a guitar in it, a gift from Hank, given to her a long time ago. He taught her to play a little. The time when she used to sing…

She took a deep breath again.

‘Okay. Let’s imagine it works. Let’s imagine we can… cure this. Make everything better.’

A crazy thought. Many warned against meeting one’s exes, and with good reason.

But… there were some threads just hanging in the air. Every therapist said those were bad.

She was never someone who resisted being sentimental a little. She tried to remember.

With shaking hands, she reached for that box on top of the cupboard. She took out the old, black instrument and caressed it with her fingers. Cole used to play with it.

Tears, which she had held back for so long, appeared again.

Then she remembered she still had to phone her boss for a day off.

‘See how forgetful I am?’ she told Starlight as she walked next to the cat. _Yes. A forgetful cat lady._

A little bit of stress. Adrenaline. But she could convince her boss, and felt so relieved afterwards. She was free.

“Family matters.”

The boss sounded a bit confused though. Must have guessed it was about her parents. Well, it wasn’t. But he didn’t need to know just yet.

She had one and a half day. But, most of all, sleep. So she changed, collapsed on the bed and tried to silence her mind. Told it to think about everything later. Yet something incredibly warm continued to spread through her body from her stomach outwards.


End file.
